


Grimm Beginnings

by GalahadsGurl



Series: The Cahill Project [4]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011), S.W.A.T. (2003), The Bourne Legacy (2012), The Unusuals
Genre: Circus Arc, F/M, Family Dynamics, Gen, Jeremy Renner's Characters are The Brothers Grimm, Marina is Team Mom, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 08:35:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4912588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadsGurl/pseuds/GalahadsGurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the Army, before S.H.I.E.L.D . . .  there was Carter's Circus. </p><p>This Is That Story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home Sweet Circus

**Author's Note:**

> So about three weeks ago, I took my four year old to the circus that was visiting San Antonio where we're from. And as I was watching the trapeze act, I literally texted my beta, Julorean, and declared that I NEEDED the Brothers Grimm as trapeze artists. Thus, this fic was born. I make no apologies. 
> 
> Okay, so this takes place in August of 1987 in Angel Grove, California (remember what I said about the MMPR crossover. You'll see mention of one character, but none of them make appearances.) This means that Will is about a month shy of 21, Barney is 18, Jason is almost 16, Aaron is 13 and Clint is four months from 11. Will has been in the Army with Spec Ops for almost three years; he's commanding his own unit and he's a Captain. His sergeant with the unit is one Owen Elliot; as established in the UALP, they've been friends for a loooooong time, not including the years Owen was with Division and Will & Marina both thought he was dead. 
> 
> In Chapter 181, Marina tells her son Sam Braddock and Gus Maitland a very abridged version of her love story with Will. This outtake takes place during the medical leave Marina was describing at that time. Ergo, Will starts this fic injured. This is two parts, and both are lengthy. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. Translations are at the end same as always.

[](https://imgur.com/fH7Zh8G)

Part One

Marina Ivanovna Petrovka smiled fondly down at her 10 year old, the youngest of her charges, as he bounced along beside her, swinging their joined hands between them just this shy of violently. Her lips quirked as she squeezed his hand lightly, insisting, “Calm down, Clint. We still having a bit of waiting to do.”

“Why!? Isn't he here yet!? I want him here!” came the petulant protest, the stubborn little face set in an adorable pout. “Waiting is **hard**!”

“I know, _dorogoy_ , but his plane hasn't even arrived yet, let alone landed. Be patient.” Hot chocolate eyes narrowed as she sank into an empty seat at the gate, the shine through the windows catching her attention. “Why don't you go watch for the plane to come into the gate?”

“Okay!” Clint cheered, dashing towards the window to put his face against the glass and watch the planes move around on the tarmac. 

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as, instead of following his baby brother, her second youngest took the seat next to her and settled close. “You can go watch with Clint, if you want to, Kenny.”

The 12 year old shook his head, dropping his temple against her shoulder. “No thank you, Marishka.”

Her fingers came up to thread through brilliantly golden curls, prompting fondly, “What's wrong, _solnechnny svet_? You've been very quiet since Will called to say that he was coming home on leave.”

The child looked up at his sister with solemn features so unlike his usually sunny demeanor. “Will's hurt real bad, isn't he?”

The Russian reeled at the question, staring at her boy in shock. She had tried very hard to keep the full extent of why Will was on leave from his brothers. As always though her Kenny proved the most perceptive of the four and figured it out without any prompting from her. (She didn't care what Ross said about Kenny's IQ; her boy was damned smart. Book smarts didn't mean a thing if you were people smart instead.) Her lips quirked as she looped one arm around his shoulders as she pressed a warm kiss to the crown of his head, joking, “Not hiding the worry very well, am I?”

Kenny shrugged nonchalantly. “You always fuss at us when you're worried. And Will coming home on leave wouldn't make you worry unless you were concerned about an injury.”

Taking a deep breath, Marina nodded once in agreement as she glanced towards where Clint was still watching the activity outside. “Yes, _solnyshko_ , Misha's hurt pretty badly. So, I need you to help me take good care of him, okay? Do your chores the first time you're asked, spend time with your brother, make him laugh and smile, play with him . . . be the best little brother you can be.” Squeezing him gently, she asked, “Can you do that for me?”

A resolute nod was the only answer she got before Clint squealed from the window, bouncing up and down as he pointed out the window. “He's here! He's here! The plane is here! Will's **home**!”

Standing, the former assassin could see the airplane pulling into the gate and smiled. Clint's excited cheers were echoed by many of the other children currently waiting in the area. They were not the only military family in attendance, waiting for a loved one to come home. Will had arranged to fly into **this** airport for that exact reason; the circus was camped a little more than an hour away, but the drive would be worth the anonymity that came from the crowd. She stretched widely over her head, before offering Kenny one hand while grabbing onto Clint with the other before the exuberant boy could dash out of reach. “Calm down, Clint; he still has to deplane. It was a long flight from Syria. Be patient.”

“Why was Will in Syria, Marina?”

“I don't know, _domashniy_ , and even if we asked him, he couldn't tell us. So please don't ask.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so, Clint.”

“But why!?”

“Clinton Francis, you are testing my patience,” she grit out, narrowing her eyes at him as she tried to settle him down. 

“Come on, Clint, you're gonna get grounded. And then we won't get to show Will our new trapeze routine,” Kenny admonished, peering around Marina at his best friend. 

At the reminder, the baby of the family made a show of zipping his lips, earning a relieved smile from the Russian at the action. Ruffling Kenny's hair, she breathed, “Thank you, _solnyshko_.”

His beaming grin all but lit up the room as he winked up at her. Leaning sideways, she pressed another adoring kiss to his forehead. As people began to exit the plane, she squeezed their hands briefly to pull their attention onto her face. Once she was sure they were listening, she insisted, “All I'm going to ask is that you're careful with Misha, okay?”

“Why?” 

Marina sighed heavily; Clint had never really outgrown the inquisitive phase of childhood and even now, the near constant curiosity drove her insane. Fortunately, Kenny was well equipped to handle his best friend's frenetic questions. “Will's hurt, Clint, remember? Marina doesn't know how bad it is, so we have to be careful until she finds out.”

Clint's head cocked in question. “Didn't he tell you, Marishka?”

“You know your brother, _dorogoy_. He doesn't want me to worry.”

“Stupid Will.”

Chuckling at the childish exasperation, she released Kenny's hand to smooth down a stubborn lock of blond at the back of Clint's head. “Indeed.”

Just then Kenny started to practically vibrate at her side, his need to dash away clashing with his inherent obedience. The Russian glanced down at him in confusion, suddenly aware that he was staring a hole in something across the concourse. “Kenny?”

Nodding in the direction he was looking, he said nothing. Marina straightened, following his eyes and fought to hold in her gasp at the sight of Will emerging slowly from the gate, a tall blond – with blue eyes Marina could see from where she stood – trailing behind dutifully. Chocolate eyes swept over the eldest Grimm as he made his way through the reuniting families, taking in everything Will had tried to hide from her and from his brothers. She could already see that his injuries were much worse than he'd led her to believe on the phone. 

Will wore his uniform, which not only caused Marina's heart to trip a little faster in her throat, but also prompted more than a few of the recently arrived soldiers to stop and salute him as he passed. The attention clearly made him uncomfortable, though he said nothing as he returned the action and continued on. He also wore a pained grimace in place of his usual smile, and there was a noticeable limp in his step as he leaned heavily on a cane. 

A soft sound from Clint brought her back to awareness as she tore her eyes away from him and back onto the boys. Their almost identical faces looked up into hers, blue and gray eyes pleading as they waited patiently for her to release them. Her hands tightened as she admonished once more, “Carefully, _domashniy_ ,” before she let them go. 

Instantly, the two preteens were off like a shot, shouting, “Will!”

Will's face transformed at the familiar sound, his pain instantly buried so his baby brothers couldn't see. There was a sharp edge to his laughter as Clint barreled into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms around the older brother's waist and face buried in the uniform jacket. Kenny was only seconds behind Clint, throwing his arms around both of his brothers. Marina watched as Will blanched, features going pale as he wavered slightly under the well-meaning hugs. The blond was laser focused on her partner's face, reaching out to steady him on his feet while Will's fingers went white-knuckled on the head of the cane. 

Swallowing hard, the eldest Grimm squeezed his eyes closed for a brief moment, before forcing a smile and lifting his free hand to smooth over Clint's towhead. “Hello, Imp,” he greeted fondly, the 20 year old trying to fight through the pain so his brothers didn't realize how much their embrace hurt. “How'd you get so tall, Midget?”

“I grew four whole inches while you were gone, Will. I did! Ask Marina!”

“I believe you,” he promised, arm coming around both boys' heads as he returned their embrace as much as he was able while still clutching the cane. “I've missed you both so much.”

The Russian knew the instant Will reached the end of his endurance and stepped forward to insist, “What did I say about being careful with your brother, boys?”

Kenny bolted backwards, looking horrified at the thought that he was hurting him. Clint stayed where he was, though Marina could see that he'd loosened his arms significantly. Huffing out a soft breath, Will reached out to chuck the older kid under the chin with a small smile. “I'm all right, _detka_. It's okay.” 

Kenny bit down hard on his lower lip, keen blue eyes sweeping his brother's body from head to toe. Will stood still under the scrutiny, one corner of his lips quirking upwards at the very adult action. Finally, the second youngest Grimm asked, “Does it hurt a lot, Will?”

“Like hell,” the officer agreed, ruffling Clint's hair just before the youngest released him. “But I'm gonna be okay.”

“You promise?”

“You don't think Marina's going to take good care of me?”

The two younger boys twisted to look back at their sister, seeing her standing there with her hands in her pockets and a sad smile on her lips. Seeming to accept that as an answer, Kenny nodded firmly, before rounding on the Russian. “You haven't said hi to Will yet, Marishka.”

“I was letting you go first, _solnyshko_ ,” she promised, reaching out to cup his cheek. Her hand dropped to her side as she turned to face the eldest Grimm. She couldn't get over the changes in him; Will had left her care almost two years ago a boy and he'd come home a young man. “ _Allo Mishka_.”

The Captain's lips quirked upwards as he replied, “Hey Marina.”

There was a brief pause before Will's lips twisted sharply, hand tightening hard on the cane. Immediately, Marina insinuated herself under his arm, bolstering him upwards even as he sagged into her. “All right; let's get you sitting down before you fall down.”

“No . . . I wanna go home,” he protested, quicksilver eyes blazing with fierce determination. 

The woman could feel his body trembling and there would be bruises where his fingers were clutching onto her shoulders to keep himself standing. Despite all of that, she nodded firmly. “Okay then . . . let's go home.” Snapping her fingers at the boys, she ordered briskly, “Run on ahead to the baggage claim. Get Will's things. Stay there!”

“I'll go with them, ma'am,” the blond promised, hefting up their carry-ons over one shoulder. 

The Russian blinked up at him, having completely forgotten he was there as she'd focused on her eldest charge. “I'm sorry. I've been completely remiss in my manners. I'm Marina Petrovka.”

“Staff Sergeant Owen Elliot, ma'am. It's a pleasure. Cap's had a lot to say about you.”

Will's grin was telling as he joked, “All good things, I promise.”

“Mm-hm,” she hummed with a grin, fingers tightening briefly in a careful hug. “I'll bet. It's just Marina, Sergeant,” she insisted, earning a grin and a corresponding, “Owen.” 

“Nice to meet you, Owen. If you'd go with the boys I'd appreciate it.” He nodded and jogged after the two boys, allowing Marina to adjust her grip around Will's waist and take more of his weight. “Come on, Misha . . . let's get you home.”

****************************

A brief squabble erupted over shotgun when they arrived at the beat-up Army Jeep that Will and Marina had bought together at a surplus sale following the receipt of his signing bonus. Of course the Russian put a quick stop to the bickering, reminding the two boys Will could not sit in the cramped backseat with his injured leg. Owen helped his superior officer into the front seat then hefted both boys into the back, while Marina arranged the bags in the cargo area at the back. 

Once everyone was in the car, Marina enclosed the cabin with the cloth coverings and fished a blanket and pillow out of the back. Will grinned at her tiredly as she fussed at him, spreading out the blanket over him and slipping the pillow between his head and the steel support he'd been leaning on. “ _Nasedka_ ,” he teased, eyes slipping closed as the flight started to catch up with him. 

“You hush,” she scolded, going up on tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his cheek. “Sleep, Misha . . . we have about an hour before we get back to camp.”

“No argument here,” he slurred, body sagging further as he continued to lose the fight against unconsciousness. “See you at home.”

“See you at home,” she promised, thumb warm as it traced over the faint bruises still dotting his cheekbone. 

The trip home was surprisingly quiet, her boys uncharacteristically solicitous as Will slept fitfully in the seat next to her. The arrival back at camp was met by a grinning 15 year old Jason and a broody 18 year old Barney. Rolling her eyes at the older boy's by now typical demeanor, Marina swung out of the Jeep and ordered firmly, “Barney, help the boys get Will's things. Jay, if you could help Will get inside. He's taking my room.”

“I'm not taking your room,” the man protested sleepily, eyes heavy lidded as he glared at her. 

“Yes you are. Owen's taking your bunk . . . and I'm taking the floor.”

“It's your damned room, Marina . . . I'm not taking your bed.”

“William Michael, this is not up for discussion. My room is the best room for you; it's private, it's quiet and best of all, you can get some actual rest while you recuperate.”

“I can sleep in my own bed.”

Cocking an eyebrow, she asked, “Okay. Then I guess I'm sleeping on the floor next to your bed. And Owen can take mine.”

Gritting his teeth at her stubborn insistence, Will groaned as he gave up the argument. “Fine, you win.”

“I always do,” she taunted with a grin, as Jason moved to ease Will out of the Jeep. 

The middle Grimm grinned at his brother as he let the officer move at his own pace. “Hey, _pravitel_.”

“Hey Jay,” the older brother replied, grimacing lightly as he hopped carefully from the Jeep. Free hand clutching Jason's arm, he leaned hard on his cane as he wobbled. “So she's still a stubborn old bat, huh?”

“Shut up, Will,” he laughed, drawing his brother's arm over his shoulders as they hobbled towards the rail-car that had been their home for the last eight years. 

Marina looked up to see Owen taking in the rail-car quietly. Frowning, she folded her arms over her chest as she forced herself to justify their circumstances. “It's not much, but it's home.”

Owen chuckled, as he replied, “No need to explain. It was either the Army or sleeping on the streets after I aged out of foster care. This is practically luxurious, compared to my cardboard box in the alley behind a Chinese restaurant in Miami.”

“Hmm . . . foster care huh?”

“Yeah. I don't know who dear old dad was and my ma was . . . well, some people just shouldn't be parents, you know?”

Quirking her lips, she twisted to look pointedly towards where Clint and Kenny had abandoned their chores and were instead playing catch with an old baseball that was all but falling apart. “Yeah, I think I know. I hope you don't mind sharing a room with Clint and Kenny; we don't exactly have a guest room.”

“Nah, that's just fine. It'll be just like old times.”

“Dinner's communal with the rest of the camp. Everyone has chores and everybody pulls their own weight; if you don't, you don't eat. We don't have a show tonight, but we will tomorrow. Don't be surprised if you get dragged off to do some manual labor. Also, morning starts very early around here, so . . .”

“Sounds like the Army.”

“It's not far off,” she agreed with a grin, clapping him warmly on the shoulder. “All right. I need you to tell me what happened.”

“How do you know **_I_** know?”

“You're the sergeant he calls 'Lucky' . . . you're the one whose ass he saved, and as a result are the reason he got shot three times.” Cocking an eyebrow, she snarked, “Call it a lucky guess.”

Owen reached up to rub at the back of his head briskly. “It was an ambush. Our guys were going down on all sides. I don't even know how he did it, but he knocked me out of the way of a bullet. It would have taken me to hell, and my head with it.”

“How bad is it?”

“It was touch and go for a little bit, but he's getting better. He did take three bullets, two to the chest and one in the left thigh. That one bled like a stuck pig but except for the limp and some lingering pain, it's the least of his problems.”

“What's the worst of his problems?”

“One of the bullets was a clean shot to the shoulder, through and through with minimal damage. The other bounced around a bit before it lodged behind his collarbone. He got lucky.”

“And **you're** the one who ended up with the nickname?”

Caught off-guard by the woman's sass, Owen snorted, “Yeah, apparently.”

There was a pause as she took in the man's sheepish blush, before she confessed with a grin, “He must like you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Misha's been home on leave a couple times since he left, but he's never brought anyone back with him before. You would be the first to see where he grew up.”

“I'm honored.”

“You should be. It means he counts you as a friend.” Biting down on her lip, she paused as she considered what to say, before plowing onward, “Don't betray his trust, okay? Misha doesn't have friends . . . just us.”

“You have my word. I owe Cap a debt, and it's one I can never repay. I am his man forever,” the sergeant vowed, cornflower blue eyes solemn as he watched the woman. 

Marina nodded briskly in agreement, able to read the sincerity in his eyes. “All right. I'm going to check on Misha. Settle in, get changed, take a nap. Dinner's not for a few hours and all the camp chores are done for the day. Enjoy the reprieve while it lasts; it never lasts for long.”

Owen's return nod was somber as he watched her climb up into the rail-car and move through the cramped space. Will was sitting on her bed, the cane resting neatly against the wall beside him and his hands braced on either side of him. Currently, he was staring at his boots . . . more specifically the tight laces that were preventing him from being able to kick them off. Slipping into the tiny room – once upon a time it had been a broom closet, before it had become apparent that Marina needed a room of her own – she slid the door closed behind her, going to her knees soundlessly. 

Will had been her partner in raising his brothers since he was 12, and Marina knew there was a large part of him that balked at seeing her obeisant before him. At the end of the day, however, Will was a pragmatist; his injuries prevented him from bending forward to untie his shoes. Better to rely on the one person he trusted above all others – the one person he could be vulnerable with – than harm himself attempting to do it unaided. Resting one hand on his knee, she gifted him with a quick wink before setting to the task of getting him comfortable.

Her fingers were deft on the laces as she picked apart the knots, eased the boots from his feet and set them off to the side by the door. The socks came next, both carefully inspected then relegated to Marina's mending bag in the corner. Money had always been tight, even considering Will's Army paycheck, and a couple holes that could easily be darned was cheaper than buying a new pair. Kneeling up, she placed her hands carefully on his knees as she questioned, “Do you think you can manage in the shower or do you just want to sponge down for right now?”

“As mortifying as it sounds, I don't think I can manage the shower car right now.”

“You want to keep your pants on or just get everything off now?”

Will's eyes squeezed closed at the question, hating the fact that it was even necessary to ask. Gritting his teeth, he balled his fist and punched downwards as hard as he could manage into the bed. “You don't have to do this for me, Marina . . . go get Owen or one of the boys.”

Marina's lips compressed slightly, hot chocolate eyes boiling as she insisted hotly, “Not a chance in hell, Misha. I'm here to help you, with whatever you need.” Cupping his chin in her palm, she forced him to look at her as she insisted, “There is no shame in asking for help when you need it. _Ponimayete_?”

Quicksilver eyes slipped closed in mortification, even as he nodded once in agreement, “ _Da_.”

“All right then, let's get you cleaned up and under the covers. You look like you're about to fall over.”

There was an amused curve at the corner of his lips as he replied wearily, “I **feel** like I'm about to fall over.”

“Then the sooner we get you squared away, the sooner you can get some rest.” Smirking, she teased, “You didn't answer my question. Pants on or off?”

He seemed to debate with himself for a bit, before huffing, “Everything off. My leg is killing me.”

Nodding briskly, Marina pushed herself to her feet and went to work on the jacket. Her movements were careful but steady as she eased the wool down his arms, stepping away for a second to push back the curtain that hid the pegs attached to the wall across from the bed. Will's forehead furrowed as he watched her rearrange the clothes hanging from them to leave several unburdened near the end. “Is that your closet?”

“What else would it be?” she asked, hooking the jacket on one of the pegs before coming back to his side. 

“Why don't you have a closet, Marina?” he asked, features set in a guilty expression. 

“I do . . . it's where I sleep. It's kind of ridiculous to have a closet **inside** another closet. This works . . . it's okay,” she insisted with a small smile, reaching up to loosen his tie, leaving the tails to dangle down his chest while she went to work on buttons of the uniform shirt. Both pieces joined the jacket on the peg seconds later, leaving him in his pants and khaki undershirt. “Can you raise your arms?”

“Yeah, if we do it fast. Putting my arms up pulls on my chest and it hurts like hell.”

“If I keep to the seams I can cut it off, if that's easier for you?”

“No, because that's just extra work you have to do to sew the stupid thing back together,” Will argued, grimacing slightly. “Pants first, then we'll tackle the t-shirt.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she agreed with a small smile, cocking an eyebrow as he visibly braced himself. “You need help or can you do it by yourself?”

“I could use the help,” he whispered, a blush creeping up the back of his neck and flushing over his ears. He swallowed hard, before forcing a lackluster smirk. “Fortunately, it's nothing you haven't seen before.”

“The last time I saw you naked, Misha, you were five. I'm pretty sure there's a lot under those clothes I haven't seen before,” she snarked with a wicked twist to her lips.

Will's blush radiated from his features as, between the two of them, they managed to get the pants off and hung up with the rest of his uniform. The t-shirt was a struggle, as his chin caught in the neck for a moment, and it was an extra 10 seconds to wrestle himself free. However, once it was discarded into the laundry bin, Marina had a completely unobstructed view of his boxer-clad body. 

A bandage wrapped around his thigh tightly, the cotton tight and pristine. There were gauze pads high on his right shoulder, front and back, where one of the bullets had passed through him. As for his chest, there was a large incision creasing the left side of his abdomen, punctuated by stark black stitches and surrounded by a puce colored bruise. A smaller incision followed the curve of his collarbone where the bullet had been removed, with lighter bruising indicating where the bullet had passed through him as it skittered off his ribs and traveled under the skin to its resting place. 

Blunt fingernails trailed through the air in a phantom touch as she traced the bruises with eyes and fingers. “Misha,” she breathed, looking up at him in concern. 

Seeming to understand what she couldn't say, he smiled as he shook his head. “I'm all right, Marina; just tired.”

“Let me go get the first aid kit, and some soap & water.” Her nose crinkled as she teased, “You reek.”

“Couldn't shower by myself,” he replied with a small grin. “You don't have to do this.”

“I know. But I want to. I'll be right back . . . and then you can get some rest, okay?”

Of course, when she returned it was to the sight of Will slumped back against the wall, those quicksilver eyes closed in sleep and chest moving rhythmically as he breathed evenly. Setting the pitcher and washbasin on the small crate that served as her bedside table, she wrangled him gently onto his right side before smoothing through his hair with tender fingers. “Oh my Misha . . . what am I going to do with you?” Pressing a warm kiss to his forehead, she reached for the covers and tucked him in. Easing into the folding chair beside the bed, she laid one hand over his and settled down to watch over him while he slept. 

**************************

A quiet knock at the door jolted Marina out of a much needed doze about an hour later, her eyes blinking sharply as she tried to take in her surroundings. The sight of Will curled up on his right side in her bed brought her back to awareness, earning a small smile before another knock sounded from the door. Lunging upwards, Marina eased the door open and smiled to see a worried Melinda Carter standing there. “ _Babushka_ , hi.”

“Hello, Marina,” the older woman greeted fondly, stepping forward to join the former assassin in the door frame. “How is he?”

“Tired and sore. I'm worried about that limp, but the rest of the wounds seem to be healing well.”

“Good,” she agreed, smiling to see her adoptive grandson snuffle sleepily into his pillow, tone absent as he murmured something neither woman could understand. “I don't want to wake him; I just wanted to check in on you both.”

“I haven't forgotten that the laundry needs done, _Baba_ , I promise. I'll have Owen take over for me in a little bit.”

“It's all right, Marina. Forget about your chores; Deidre said she'd do them for awhile until he's up and around again. Laundry is already done, it's okay.”

“ _Baba_ . . .” she protested with wide eyes, earning a sharp shake of the head from the other woman. “He's going to need you Marina. You're the only one he trusts to see him so vulnerable. Don't worry about the rest of camp; just take care of him for us. Everyone's been asking whether or not he's okay. Seems Danny and I are not the only ones here who are fond of him.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Looping her arms around the girl's shoulders, Melinda pressed a warm kiss to her temple. “Don't worry about coming to dinner if he's not up to it. We'll send the boys back with plates if that ends up being the case.”

“Sounds good,” the Russian agreed, leaning into the motherly embrace for a few moments more. Her own mother had died when she was two with her father gone shortly after she turned 4; the easy affection Daniel and Melinda Carter gave her typically reduced her to a little girl, desperate for their parental love.

Looking around the rail-car, Melinda took in the cramped space before insisting, “I'll send Mattie over with an air mattress too. You shouldn't be sleeping on the floor, Marina; you'll catch your death and then what good will you be to Will?”

Chuckling, Marina teased, “Whatever you say, _Baba_.”

“Good girl. And Marina?”

“Yeah?”

“It might be past time for you to tell him how you feel about him, hm?”

A delicate blush swept up the Russian's cheeks as she replied, “I'm thinking about it.”

“Good. You both deserve all the happiness in the world.” A slim hand came up to cup Marina's cheek, thumb stroking along the cheekbone as Melinda offered the fond reminder, “Take care of him for us.”

“I will,” the younger woman promised, a small smile on her face as she watched the woman mostly commonly referred to as “The Battleaxe” jumped from the car and disappeared from view. The Russians' head fell backwards as she yawned, twisting to try and relieve the ache along her spine. Heavy footsteps behind her sent her into attack mode and she twirled on her toes, taking Owen down to the floor with an effortless sweep of his legs. 

She grimaced at the crash the blond made once he hit the steel floor; part of her was horrified at the continuing evidence that she would never be free of the Red Room's training while another part of her was terrified that she'd woken Will. “Sorry, Owen,” she promised, even as she leaped over his fallen body and went to check on the sleeping captain. 

Fortunately, Will slept on, uncharacteristically oblivious to the world around him. “ _Slava Bogu_ ,” she breathed, threading her fingers back through her hair in relief before she moved to assist the sergeant to his feet. “You okay?”

“I think I'll live. Where the hell did you learn how to do that?!”

“It's a long story and I really don't feel like getting into it right now.”

“Damn, Boss-lady . . . you're hella badass.”

“Boss-lady?” she asked, lips quirking in amusement. 

“What? You're the Boss' lady, aren't you?”

“Not at the moment . . . but I'm working on it.”

One huge hand came up to grip her shoulder as cornflower eyes sobered, tone stern as he promised, “He talks about you all the time . . . and if he doesn't worship you, he's doing a hell of a job pretending otherwise.”

Beaming up at him, she laughed, “I can't tell you how nice that is to hear.” Hot chocolate eyes slipped closed as she shoved her hands up into her hair for a moment, before she consciously released the tension in her shoulders and smiled up at the man. “What's up, Owen? I'm assuming there was a reason you were attempting to sneak up on me like a noisy ninja.”

“Yeah; I was gonna run into town with Mr. Carter and I wanted to see if you or Will needed anything.”

“No we're okay . . . but thank you for asking.”

“You sure? I don't mind.”

She huffed at him, even as she gave him a grin. “Money is tight around here. We don't go shopping for something unless Kenny can't build it, Jason can't fix it and I can't mend it. But really . . . thank you.”

“Look, I understand being self-sufficient. But I'm a single guy with no family and no one to spend my paycheck on except for myself. Will's paycheck is undoubtedly bigger than mine but his responsibilities are also five times what mine are. I want to help, okay? So let me help. If you need something, please . . . ask me.”

“We'll manage. But if we need something, I'll ask . . . I promise.”

“That's all I want. I don't want to be another burden on you and your family.”

“You're not a burden; you're a guest and Misha's friend. And trust me, that means more to me than any help you could offer money-wise.” There was a genuine smile on her face as she squeezed his bicep fondly, “Although, if you were to pick up Neapolitan ice cream, Clint would be your complete devotee forever. The boys don't get ice cream very often; it's too expensive.”

Grinning, he agreed, “I think I can swing some ice cream. I'll be back a little later.”

“We'll be here,” she chuckled, one hand lifting in a wave as he jumped from the car and dashed towards the main camp area. The sound of rustling in her room drew her attention away from the door and she smiled to see Will's eyes open. “Hey you.”

“Hi,” he croaked, wincing slightly at the sound of his voice. “Was that Lucky?”

“Yeah . . . he's heading into town with _Deda_ and wanted to know if we needed anything,” she explained, moving towards their tiny kitchen to get a glass of water for him. She took a seat next to him on the bed as he fought his way to seated, offering the glass once he was leaning up against the wall. His smile was small and relieved as he accepted it from her with a soft “thank you.”

“No problem. How do you feel?”

“Better,” he insisted, bringing the glass to his lips and draining the water completely. “What's the plan for dinner?”

“I guess that depends on if you want to head over to the mess or stay in bed. _Babushka_ was here; she said she'd send the boys back with dinner if you didn't feel up to it.” Smirking, she teased, “She also mentioned that at least half the camp has asked about you, so you will probably need to put in some kind of appearance eventually.”

Taking a deep breath, Will winced at the sharp pain that reverberated through his collarbone, before he nodded. “I want a shower first, and then we can head to dinner. It'll be good to see everyone.”

“All right. Let's head to the shower car.” Reaching out, she laid her hand over his. “Do you want me to get Jay to help you?”

“No . . . I don't want him to worry. Just stay close . . . I can manage.”

Quicksilver eyes were determined as they searched hers, and even though the Russian would have liked to argue with him about his ability to stay standing for that long, she knew better than to try once he'd made up his mind. “Let me get your shower things together before you get out of bed though, okay? And you should at least put on some pants and flip flops.”

The Captain smiled at her as he nodded. “Thank you, Marishka.”

Pale lips compressed as she ran her fingers through his hair, bending forward to rest her forehead against his own. “Nowhere I'd rather be, Misha.”

Getting out of the rail-car proved to be tricky, as there were no stairs. Finally, Will sat on the edge of the car and jumped cautiously, landing shakily on his good leg and his cane. Marina's hands were out to steady him but she knew how independent he was and knew he would not accept her help if he didn't think he needed it. Hefting the backpack over one shoulder, she asked, “You good?”

His jaw was tight against the pain, his nod jerky as he leaned heavily on the cane and moved towards the shower car. Marina just rolled her eyes at his habitual stubbornness and hurried to catch up. They were stopped a couple of times by other members of the oddball family that made up Carter's Circus, though they never lingered very long to talk. It was not hard to see that Will was only on his feet out of sheer mulishness and most let them go with just a brief, “Hey!” and “Good to see you home!” 

Will grunted as he hobbled up the stairs to the shower car, Marina trailing a step behind. “What do you want me to do, Misha? You want me to wait out here or wait in the dressing area?”

“Dressing area. If I need help, you should probably be able to hear me call you,” he reminded her bitterly, free hand flashing out to grab onto the wall as he slipped slightly in a puddle on the floor. “This was a stupid idea.”

“Maybe, but sometimes you just need a shower to wash the bad shit away,” the Russian agreed, guiding him into the shower stall and drawing the curtain closed behind him. Setting the backpack on one of the benches, she moved to the heavy car door and hauled it completely closed before throwing the lock. “Take your time, Misha; we've got all the time in the world.”

There was a long moment of silence, and eventually Marina frowned at the lack of sound coming from the stall. “Misha? You okay?”

He huffed lightly, grumbling in embarrassment, “I can't get undressed without letting go of my cane. And if I let go of my cane I can't stand up by myself.”

Chuckling at the petulant tone, Marina grabbed the bottom of her shirt and hauled it up and over her head, dropping it on one of the benches. Her jeans were next, folded neatly on top of the shirt. Bra and panties stayed on, though the lacy white wouldn't do much to conceal her body once she was wet. Shoving aside the curtain, she grinned as Will jolted in surprise. Those quicksilver eyes went wide in shocked awe as he took her in from head to toe, before making eye contact once again. “Marina, what are you doing?”

“You need help, Misha . . . and if you don't want me to get one of the boys, I'm your last option.” There was a sly smirk on her face as she stepped forward to grab the waistband of his sweatpants. “Besides, I think you were the one who said it wasn't anything I hadn't seen before.”

“And you were the one who reminded me you hadn't seen me naked since I was five years old,” he reminded her, his free hand clamping down over hers to prevent her from shedding the pants. 

Warmth glowed from her eyes as she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Will froze in surprise, even as his body swayed toward her, every cell yearning for more. “Marishka . . .” he breathed, his hand leaving hers and coming up to smooth back her hair, “. . . if you don't mean it, don't do this.”

There was a sad downturn to her lips as she looked up into his eyes, features a curious mix of resolute and adoring. “Misha . . . _te adoro_.”

At the romantic form of the Latin phrase, Will sucked in a sharp breath and pulled her up to his lips once again. She crowded him into the corner of the shower, her touch quick and firm as she stripped him of his clothes, keeping their kisses light and easy. When she drew back, he leaned forward to follow, settling back only after she pinned him firmly to the wall. “We have time to figure out where we go from here, and what this means for **us**. Right now, let's just take things slow; there's no rush.”

“What about the boys?” he breathed, fingers sketching lightly over her features. 

“Just one more thing we're going to have to figure out. But no matter what we both decide, we'll be okay. I promise . . . I'm not going to let go of what we could have together. I want you, Misha . . . I love you . . . we'll figure it out.”

************************************

Marina knew something was wrong. 

Though the bruising on his chest was almost completely faded and she had removed the stitches from the smaller incision over his collarbone, Will continued to limp. What's more, the limp was getting worse. When he'd first arrived home a week before, he'd been able to hobble around on his own two feet as long as he was leaning on his cane. Now he could hardly move the joint at all, forced to accept either Owen or Jason's help as he hopped around on one foot and his cane . . . if he got out of bed at all. 

The Russian had started to alternate between ice packs and warm compresses, trying to ease the pain. It killed her to see him grit his teeth silently against it; it wasn't the first time she'd cursed their lack of funds to purchase needed meds. Fortunately, Owen had seemed to realize that they couldn't afford the medication and had badgered Big Red to take him into town. The old carnie was a ballbuster, but he was fond of Will and didn't need much prodding when the soldier had confessed that the trip was for the Captain's sake. 

At first, the acetaminophen seemed to help but when he started to need it more and more frequently, Marina knew for a fact that something was very **very** wrong. 

Her mind was far away as she put together another warm compress, hands moving without conscious thought as she considered all the different things that could be causing it. The most likely was infection, except that there was no fever. His incisions were healing well and his thigh was little more than a scar. As far as she could see there had been no injury to the knee at all . . . which was why the pain being centered there was so baffling. 

She jumped with a small scream as Owen suddenly roared, “You little shit! How dare you!?”

Blinking hard in shock, she whirled to see Owen and Barney toe to toe with one another. One hand came up to fold over her forehead as she watched the younger male shove the sergeant hard, snarling, “Get out of my face, asshole.”

Bolting forward, she put herself between them instantly. Shocked to see her suddenly there, Owen stumbled slightly as he pulled his punch, trying not to hit her. “What the hell is going on here?”

“Ask him! He started it!” Barney sneered, fingers brushing back through his waist length hair and yanking it into a quick ponytail.

Marina's eyes narrowed, looking up at the ceiling in a bid for patience before she turned to face the other man. “What's going on?”

“The little shit is running his mouth about Cap. And I'm done; he says one more thing about how this is Will's own damned fault, I'm gonna kill him . . . Cap's kid brother or not.”

The Russian's eyes went wide in shock and hurt as she looked up at the second eldest Grimm. Her mouth opened, though whatever she was going to say was clogged up in her throat as she felt tears well in her eyes. Both she and Will had been keeping their new relationship tightly under wraps and her first instinct to leap to her boyfriend's defense was screaming at her. “Barney . . .” she breathed, horrified at the very implication. 

“Am I wrong? He jumped in to save this moron instead of looking out for himself.”

“They were ambushed, _smut'yan_ . . . there's no way of knowing he wouldn't have been wounded if he hadn't jumped in to save Owen.” 

Will's voice was a low burn from the doorway of her room as he hobbled into view, one hand gripping the door frame and the other clutching his cane in a death grip. “Either way, it doesn't matter. What's done is done. And, Barn, I would have done the same thing for you. I had thought you would have done it for me, but apparently I was wrong to think so.”

Shame flashed across Barney's face for all of second, before his features twisted into a scowl. He bolted for the door, leaping from the car and disappearing into the camp in a second. Marina stared after him, before shaking herself free from her instinctive need to go after to him; her wild child clearly needed some time to himself and for the moment Will needed her more than Barney did. 

Turning back to face her new boyfriend, she gasped when Will's face twisted as he collapsed back against the wall with a sharp grunt. “Misha!” she cried, bolting to his side as he slid down the wall to the floor. 

“My knee . . .” he begged, fingers stretching toward it as his eyes squeezed tightly closed. “ _Der'mo_ , my knee.”

The Russian hushed him gently as she cupped his face in her palm. “Hold on, Mishka, I'll be right back. Just hold on.”

Scrambling for the compress, she ran it under the hottest water she could stand for a short minute before hurrying back to wrap it around the joint. Will jolted at the heat, head cracking back against the wall as he screamed. Marina flinched at the sound, though she grabbed for his hands as he tried to free himself from the cloth. “It's okay . . . it's okay . . . I know it hurts, Misha, but it's helping I promise. It's okay . . . look at me, you're okay. I'm here.”

Owen moved to kneel on Will's other side, one hand coming up to rest on his bad shoulder carefully. “Let's get you into bed. And then I think we need to go get Doc, Boss.”

The eldest Grimm sucked in a shaky breath, allowing the blond to pull Will's arms around his own neck and then scoop him up bridal style. There was a sharp intake of breath at the pressure against the back of his knee causing him to jolt hard to escape the touch, though the trip was fortunately a short one before he was once again on the bed. Marina was next to him in a second flat, rolling him onto his side so that he faced the wall and she could see. There, in the crease at the back of the joint, was what looked to be a large pimple with the surrounding skin swollen, inflamed and hot to the touch. 

Her fingers trembled as she pushed gently against the outer edges, causing Will to buck away from the touch with a sharp cry. “Easy, Misha . . . I know it hurts . . . just a little longer,” she soothed, reaching to palpate the area carefully. 

Soft and malleable, Marina frowned as she suddenly encountered something hard and jagged under the skin at the center of the pocket. “ _Yebat'_ , it's an abscess. Owen, go get Doc.”

“Yes ma'am,” he agreed, bolting from the rail-car. 

Ripping off her outer shirt and tossing it away from herself, Marina leaned over to grab the compress and push it gently against the abscess, her free hand pinning the joint against the cloth. Will sobbed, trying to shift away without success. “I know it hurts, but we have to keep it on. We need to see if we can get it to come to a head. Just a little bit longer; Lucky went to get Doc.”

One hand reached back for her, fingers trembling as he sought some kind of comfort. Easing onto the bed, Marina curled up against his back, making sure to keep her knee pressed against the compress to hold it in place. She pressed warm kisses across the exposed skin of his shoulders, crooning a quiet lullaby against the skin as she held him. 

It was a few minutes before she heard Owen and Doc making their way into the rail-car. Doc was actually Merrick Davis, the circus veterinarian. Sixty years old if he was a day, Doc had been treating both the animals and the humans at the circus since long before the Grimms had come to live under the bigtop. She rolled off the bed for all of a second, before taking a position under Will's head. His arms came up to wrap around her waist, as he buried his face into her belly. “What seems to be the problem, Marina?”

“He has an abscess, at the back of his left knee. There's something in it . . . I can feel it.”

“Hmm,” was the Doc's only reply as he clicked open his bag and began to pull things out of it. “Gonna have to lance it then . . . let's see if we can wash out whatever it is once it's drained.”

One gnarled hand came up to lift the limb gently, tucking a clean towel under the joint to catch any blood and pus that made an appearance. Next, he handed Owen a set of small scalpels. “Turn on the stove, get them red hot then bring them back to me.” The soldier said nothing, only disappeared to do as told. 

Turning back to Will, he rested one hand on his shoulder to gain the younger man's attention. “I'm going to have to put you out, kiddo. I don't have a local with me that's safe to use on humans. I have some chloroform, though; a small dose and you shouldn't feel a thing.”

“No, I don't want to be drugged.”

“Will my boy, this is going to hurt. And I don't have anything that's going to prevent that.”

“I don't care. I don't want the chloroform.” Tilting his head back, he looked up at Marina with tearing eyes as he begged, “Marishka, please.”

Fingers threading back through his hair, she bit down on her lip before nodding. “Okay. If you don't want it, you don't have to have it.” She paused, tilting Will's chin up to meet her eyes before continuing, “But if you start to flinch and shift, I'm overruling you and you **will** accept the chloroform whether you like it or not. Understood?”

“Yes ma'am,” he agreed, quicksilver eyes shining a mossy blue-green as he sank back into her arms. 

Doc bit down on his lip, as he looked over the set-up. “Do you have anything we can strap that knee down with? If he doesn't want to be out, we need to keep him as still as we can. And he's going to need something to bite down on.”

“There are some scarves in the cabinet in Clint and Kenny's room. And there are some leather belts hanging up on a hook in Jason and Barney's room.”

“Good . . . get them.” 

Marina shifted Will's head back to the bed gently, before bolting off to do as she was told. She came back to find Owen and Doc shifting the occupied bed several feet from the wall. Handing over one of the scarves, she set to work tying the infected leg to the bed. The other leg was bent at the knee and pulled up out of the way, a scarf looped around the thigh and lashed to the upper right corner of the frame. Marina slipped under his head once again, while Owen knelt down between the bed and the wall, both of Will's wrists clutched in his palms. Worried chocolate eyes met Doc's as the elderly gentleman took a seat in the chair he'd pulled to the side of the bed and reached for one of the cooled implements. “Hold him tight now . . . this is going to be a messy business.”

Marina folded up the leather belt and held it up to Will's mouth, coaxing firmly, “Bite down on this, Misha.”

The Captain allowed her to slip the end into his mouth, setting his teeth into the leather hard as he gripped Owen's own wrists fiercely. Placing his hand on the back of Will's thigh, Doc looked up at the Russian with a frown, demanding, “Marina, where are the younger boys?”

“They're at school. We have about an hour before they get home,” she replied, one hand coming up to thread through Will's hair and pin his forehead against her stomach. 

“All right then. Here we go.”

Will screamed through the makeshift gag as the scalpel bit into the inflamed skin, the 20 year old clearly caught between struggling against his bonds and forcing himself still. Pus streamed from the wound as the incision was made, tinged red in places with traces of blood. Once Doc was satisfied with the size of the cut, he set the scalpel aside and reached to press on the edges of the abscess, pushing the polluted detritus from under the skin. The Captain sagged as the pain lessened almost instantly and he wavered on the edge of consciousness. He tensed again as Doc began to flush out the pocket left by the infection, flinching as the saline solution washed over the sensitive tissues. “Hurts,” he whimpered through the gag, hands spasming around Owen's wrists as he pushed his forehead harder into Marina's abdomen. 

“I know, Misha . . . it's almost over,” the Russian promised, watching Doc set the liquid aside. 

Prodding gently at the edges of the abscess, the old man frowned as he encountered some foreign object still under the skin, the touch causing Will to suck in a sharp breath. “Whatever caused this is still in there. Be brave, my boy, just a few minutes more. We're almost done.”

Rummaging in his bag for a moment, he pulled out a long, thin pair of tweezers. With a steel probe, he lifted the small flap of skin left behind by the procedure and inserted the tweezers into the cavity. The Captain jolted hard as though he'd been electrocuted, thrashing slightly as the twin points prodded around gently. The metallic sound they made when they connected with their target was almost overshadowed by the muffled scream Will bit down on as the tweezers jostled the object lodged in his body. “Hold him still; when I pull whatever this is free, he's gonna flinch. I'm going to need to be worrying about the blood, not whether or not he's still enough to continue, all right?”

The two nodded, watching as the man shifted his grip on the instrument to get a better hold. Doc placed his free hand on the thigh just above the joint and leaned down hard, then yanked. Whatever it was came free with a squelch, Will's voice catching in the back of his throat as he keened. Tossing the items in the basin by the bed, Doc grabbed a stack of gauze and clamped down on the injury to staunch any remaining bleeding. 

Merrick's hands flashed as he packed the wound with a wick to catch any further infection, before pressing another stack of padding to the injury. Next, he wrapped the knee in gauze, creating figure eights around the bottom of the thigh and the top of the calf, the twist pinning the padding in place and leaving the knee cap bare. Once that was done, Owen and Marina set to work untying the scarves and settling the young officer on his back, his head in Marina's lap and a couple pillows under his ankle to keep the leg elevated. “All right, that should hold for a few days at the very least. Stay off of it for a day or so, then you can work back up to regular activity if you feel up to it. Use the cane if you need it, but I suspect that limp should be gone in a week or so.”

“Thanks, Doc,” the young man breathed, offering the vet a hand to shake. 

“You are very welcome, my boy,” Doc promised with a fond smile, clasping the trembling fingers between both palms. “Send someone for me if you need anything else. Otherwise, let our girl take care of you; you know how she likes to fuss over you boys.”

A tired nod was the only answer from the prone figure, allowing the man to exchange a brief kiss to the cheek with Marina and a firm handshake with Owen. His things went into his bag, before he handed the woman several bottles of saline solution and another stack of bandaging. “Let me know if you need more, okay?”

Marina nodded in agreement, watching as the elderly gentleman hopped spryly from the rail-car, whistling as he went. Her attention shifted when a soft gagging sound emerged from Owen's throat, her body twisting in time to see the sergeant rinsing off whatever Doc had pulled from Will's knee. “What the hell is that thing?” she asked, head cocking as she took in the misshapen shard. 

There was a green tinge clinging to Owen's features, as he offered it up. “It's a bullet fragment. It must have shifted and no one noticed before Cap got discharged.”

The officer reached out to take the tiny metal shard, eyes calm as he twisted it between his fingers. “Hard to believe that something so small can cause so much trouble.”

There was a sly tilt to Marina's smile as she snarked, “Not _that_ hard to believe. I mean, have you **MET** Clint?”

Snorting hard at the joke, Will leaned over to drop it back into the basin. “Touche.” One hand came up to grip Marina's knee as he settled wearily into the position he'd been maneuvered into, a heavy sigh turning his muscles to mush against the mattress. “Damn, I'm tired. I feel like I just ran a marathon or something.”

“You're not the only one,” Marina promised with a sleepy chuckle as she slumped in on herself. “I think we're **all** due for a nap before the boys get home.”

The blond bounced to his feet as he joked, “And that's my cue. Get some rest, Boss . . . I'll see you guys tonight for dinner?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lucky,” the Captain agreed with a grin, the two men bumping fists lightly. 

Looking up as Marina started to shift out from under him, Will asked, “Where do you think you're going?”

“I need to blow up the air mattress,” she explained with a small smile, blinking as he reached out to grab her wrist. 

“Stay with me . . . there's more than enough room in the bed. Please, Marina.”

“Misha . . .”

“I'm fine, Marishka . . . please. Just . . . stay.”

“The boys . . .”

“Won't be surprised. How many times have we passed out together over the years? It'll be just another time we passed out in the middle of some 'philosophical question about the universe',” he intoned, rolling his eyes as he quoted a 15 year old Barney. Of the four younger Grimms, Barney always seemed to be the one to give Will and Marina a hard time for the closeness of their friendship. 

“What about your knee?”

“My knee is fine. If you want, I'll even let you be the big spoon so I don't jostle it.”

Glancing down at her watch with a frown, she sighed before nodding. “All right. Scoot over . . . and be careful with the knee.”

The grin he gifted her with was one she hadn't seen in years, a sparkle in his eyes as he drawled teasingly, “Yes ma'am.” 

Marina shoved the bed back up against the wall, while Will shifted himself carefully onto his side with his back to the room. A brief pause caused the man to shift, before Marina's weight settled on the bed behind him, and one arm came up to drape around his waist. His own dropped to lace their fingers together, his other coming up to tuck under his head. An unfamiliar sense of safety and peace swept through Will as a result of the embrace and he sunk a little deeper into the mattress as the Russian nuzzled her nose into the hollow of his nape. “Sleep well, Mishka.”

“You too, Marina . . . and thank you.”

Her lips curved upwards into a fond grin against his skin, as she whispered, “You're welcome. Sleep.”

The young man needed no further prompting and dropped off easily between one breath and the next. The former assassin pressed her forehead against his shoulder, forcing herself to relax and after a moment, followed him into dreamland. And if Barney caught them together ten minutes later, it was a secret the troublemaker swore to take to his grave.


	2. High Flying Grimms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I hope you enjoyed this look into the early lives of the Brothers Grimm. Please let me know what you think. 
> 
> Translations at the end as always.

[](https://imgur.com/fH7Zh8G)

Part Two: High Fying Grimms

Once the fragment was removed, Will's recovery accelerated to its usual speed. Before long, he was up and around, helping out with the usual chores around the grounds. It was when Marina found him kicking around a soccer ball with Clint, Kenny and the rest of the circus kids that she knew he was well on his way to getting better. Shifting her laundry basket under her arm, she tilted her head back and shouted, “Hey! You be careful! It wasn't that long ago you were laid up in bed, Captain Grimm!”

Grinning at her, Will sent the ball rocketing toward a giggling little girl. Ruffling Kenny's hair fondly as he passed, he jogged to join the woman beside the makeshift field. Reaching out, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “ _Nasedka_ ,” he teased with a quick squeeze. 

“How is your knee?”

Mouth twisting as he looked down at the still wrapped joint, he shrugged. “I'll probably need the cane tonight, but I'll live. This is good . . . I feel good.”

A warm smile curved up one corner of her lips as she chuckled, “I'm glad. I'm serious though, don't strain yourself. I don't want you to have a relapse, okay?”

“Okay,” he promised, the two adults looking back as Clint shouted, “Will! Come on!”

“Coming!” the officer called back, with a roll of his eyes. 

Chuckling, she teased, “Duty calls.”

“Tonight; we'll talk yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, a brilliant grin on her lips as he bent and sketched a warm kiss across her cheekbone before dashing back to rejoin the game. Marina laughed as she watched him roar, scooping up Clint and Kenny with arms around their waists and swinging them in circles to the chorus of their delighted giggles. Shaking her head at the usual antics – and secretly relieved to see them – Marina turned away from the game and headed towards the rail-car. 

Jason was sprawled out in the open doorway, leaning back against the frame with his nose buried in a book. “ _Allo, sladkiy_ ,” she greeted fondly, watching him jolt back to awareness with a grin. “You're sitting in the doorway again.”

“Yeah, Barn's in our room,” he grunted, offering Marina a hand to steady her climb into the rail-car before returning his attention back to his book. 

“Alone?”

“No,” was the only answer Jason would give, earning a fierce growl from Marina. 

Setting the family's laundry basket on the table, she moved deeper into the car, her fist coming up to bang against the closed door. “This door had better be open and your ass clothed in two minutes, Barney Joshua, or I promise you what happens next will guarantee your celibacy for the next twenty years!”

Ninety seconds later, the door slid open and the second eldest Grimm emerged from the room, a furiously blushing brunette trailing behind him. Marina cocked an eyebrow at the young girl, greeting her coldly, “Sandy . . . I think your parents are looking for you.”

“Yes ma'am,” was all the girl said, looking up at Barney. His roguish grin and quick peck to her lips clearly cheered her up before she scampered from the car, jumping over Jason's outstretched legs and dashing away. 

“Was that really necessary?” Barney demanded with a growl as he glared at his sister. 

“I've told you, Barney . . . not here. Not where your brothers can catch you. You wanna bang your doxies, you do it somewhere else.”

“I'm 18 years old!” 

“Then start acting like it. Clint and Kenny look up to you while Will is gone . . . and I will not have you giving them a bad example to follow.” Huffing, Barney reached back to thread his hair into a sloppy braid. Glaring at the hair, Marina turned her back on him, feeling her temper rise. “This is the last time I'm going to say it, Barney . . . no girls in your room. _Ponimayete_?”

“Whatever,” was the flippant response. 

Will's voice cut in sharply, earning a sharp flinch from the teenager. “I don't recall that being an acceptable answer before I left, and I am very certain it's still not an acceptable answer now. The right answer would be 'yes ma'am'.” Climbing up into the car, the officer glared at the younger brother as he folded his arms over his chest, insisting, “Now you try.”

Marina could all but hear Barney's jaw grinding as he grit out, “Yes ma'am.”

“Now let's try it without the sarcasm,” Will ordered, mercurial eyes blazing silver as he watched the Army's training set in and Barney straightened up, tone rigid and respectful as he insisted, “Yes ma'am.”

“Thank you. Get outta here. You're on KP duty.”

A brisk nod was Barney's only response before he too leaped over Jason and dashed towards the mess. Will's hand was warm on Marina's elbow as he insisted, “You okay?”

“I'm fine. He just makes me so mad sometimes,” Marina promised, her own hand cupping around his before she turned to look at the middle Grimm. “How's your homework coming?”

“Finished it already. Which reminds me. There's this group project due next week; my group was wondering if I could spend the night in town so we could work on it one night.”

“How would that work? You can't drive.”

“If you write a note, I can take the bus with Billy back to his place. I'll crash there that night and take the bus with him to school the next morning. Then take the bus home.”

Taking a deep breath, Marina looked up at Will, “What do you think?”

The eldest brother smirked as he reminded her, “This is Jay. He's trustworthy. It's okay with me.”

“Your brother said it's okay with him, so it's okay with me. I'll write you the note. When do you need it?”

“Is tomorrow night okay?”

“That's fine. I'll leave the note on the table in the morning before school, okay?”

“You're the best, Marishka,” he cheered, bending over to press a warm kiss to her cheek before moving into his room. Both Will and Marina could hear the creak of the ladder as he climbed up into his bunk and settled into the mattress with his book. The Russian huffed as she ran a hand back through her hair, tone snarky as she sighed, “Well, at least one of my boys is easy.”

“Kenny?” Will joked, leaning around her to grab a glass out of the cabinet. 

“Okay fine; **two** of my boys. Two out of five is still a terrible percentage.”

“Hey!? What did I do?”

Her smile was sickly sweet as she chirped, “Would you like the list alphabetically? Or chronologically?”

“You're hilarious,” Will deadpanned with a roll of his eyes. 

“That's interesting. I didn't think it was all that funny.”

Leaning back against the counter, the Captain sipped on his water as he watched her fold the boys' clothes. “Are you going to tell me why you're mad at me? Or are you going to make me guess?”

“How about we start with the fact you haven't been sleeping since you got home? And no, passing out from exhaustion doesn't count. Unconsciousness isn't sleep.”

Quicksilver eyes flashed verdant green for a moment, before turning mossy with resignation. “How did you know that?”

“I didn't. Thank you for the confirmation.”

Will groaned, cursing himself luridly under his breath at being caught out. “I can't believe I **still** fall for that old ploy.”

“You're a soldier, Misha. You tend to take the world at face value. You'd be an excellent intelligence asset, but the sneakiness of being a spy wouldn't come naturally.”

“Blunt force trauma to the face?”

“Pretty much,” she agreed with a grin and a wink. Sobering, she folded her arms and glared at him, “You didn't answer my question. Why aren't you sleeping?”

“Nightmares,” came the expected answer, causing Marina to sigh. 

“You have **always** had nightmares, Misha. Doesn't explain why these are preventing you from going back to sleep.”

“I got hurt, Marina.”

“I know . . . I was there when Doc cut a bullet fragment out of the back of your leg,” she reminded him with a roll of her eyes. “But you've been hurt worse than this before. You're up and around and just fine.”

Scoffing, Will agreed. “Yeah. And meanwhile, ten of my guys are six feet under and another eight may never walk again. And let's not count the other dozen or so who are saying fervent prayers during their recoveries that once they've healed, their careers in Spec Ops aren't over. And yet here I am . . . as good as new. Just the way Cahill made me.” A shaky hand ran back through his close-cropped hair as he sighed, “How is that fair?”

Marina reached out to touch his arm, drawing his attention onto her face. “I don't think I've ever given you reason to believe war was fair.” Tightening her grip when he snorted and attempted to pull away, she reminded him sternly, “Owen walked away from that ambush, without a **scratch**. In large part because of you. Is that fair? Would you wish injury on your best friend because others in your unit weren't so lucky?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then why do you wish it on yourself?”

There was a pause as the young man considered that, before he huffed, teasing fondly, “No fair, using logic in an argument.”

“Someone has to kick your ass out of your guilt trips, Misha. I'm just better suited to it.”

Nodding soberly, he took another drink of his water as he watched her return to her chore. Finally, he spoke again, “Do we need to talk about Barney?”

“Probably. Do I want to? No, not really.”

Will swallowed the last of his water, moving to the tiny sink to rinse the glass and then slip it over a peg hanging from the rack on the wall to dry. Stroking fingers over the wood, he asked fondly, “Did Kenny make this?”

“Yeah . . . he's very talented, Misha. Remember? He made me the cabinet next to your head too.”

“Hm . . . maybe I can look into getting him a decent tool set for his birthday.”

“The one he has works just fine,” she scolded, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Besides, we can't afford it.”

There was a noticeable crease between the Captain's brows as he huffed, “I wish I could do more.”

“Your paycheck is a godsend, Misha. I wish you'd keep more of it for yourself, but it is. The money is a huge help.”

“How are Clint's ears?”

“I told you about the ear infection last month, right?”

“Yeah . . . you said it was pretty nasty,” he agreed, smiling sadly at the way she stroked her fingers over the collar of Kenny's favorite t-shirt so the fabric laid straight. “How bad is it?”

“I don't know. They wanted to put tubes in.”

“Tubes? Isn't he too old?”

“Yes, technically, but the infections are coming so frequently right now they're almost his last option.”

“I can get him on the insurance, Marina. We can take him to a real doctor; Doc is great, but Clint needs an ENT.”

“And we both decided, a long time ago, the last thing we wanted was to be on anyone's radar. Putting Clint on your insurance would solve a bunch of problems . . . and probably create a dozen more.”

Will's hands shoved back through his hair as he forced out a harsh groan. “I hate this. If I could just claim you guys . . . the benefits would be tremendous.”

“Not if it lands you back in a cage. It's not worth the risk, Misha. Please.” Reaching out, she cupped his cheek. “Promise me . . . let it go.”

“Fine . . . I promise.” Quicksilver eyes slipped closed as he counted backwards from 100 in Arabic. Once he was calmer, he looked back down at Marina once again, “I can send more.”

“Misha, you need money just like we do. You have uniforms to buy, shoes, socks, food, rent . . . basic necessities. You can't send everything back to us. What you can send, is a blessing. Don't deny yourself the things you need, to make sure we're okay. We get by; yeah, it's not always easy, but we manage. And we will continue to manage.”

“Clint and Kenny are wearing clothes I wore ten years ago. And Clint's ears **are** getting worse. Jason is so smart and we can't even afford the engineering books he would be interested in.”

“So maybe it's time to swallow your pride . . . and call Howard.”

“I will not accept his charity.”

“Howard doesn't think of it as charity.”

“I don't want to be the thing he feels guilty for. Okay?”

There was a long pause as the two considered each other, before Marina sighed. “If I promise to let you put Clint on the insurance, will you promise to call Howard?”

Will's eyes narrowed as he took in the concession, before he countered, “Clint **and** Kenny, and I'll call Stark.”

Marina bit down on her lower lip, before she nodded, “Done.”

“All right. Let me call HR and get them on. Then I'll call Stark.”

Knowing Will would never go back on his word – regardless of how much he was already regretting the decision to call their unnamed and mostly invisible benefactor – Marina allowed the delay graciously. She pushed herself up onto her toes and pressed a warm kiss to his cheek, “Thank you, Misha. I'll make a list of things we need.”

Nodding in agreement, the eldest Grimm watched as she scooped up the folded clothes and dashed towards her room. Jason appeared in the doorway, a cautiously hopeful look on his face, as he asked, “Mr. Stark's coming?”

“Probably. But most likely not till the weekend; you'll get to see him, I promise.”

“Thanks, Will.”

“You're welcome. Would you go find Clint and Kenny for me? It's about time to clean up for dinner.”

“Sure thing,” the teenager agreed, fingers reverent as they dog-eared a page of his well-worn book and laid it carefully on the small kitchen table. 

Will waited until after he was gone to pick up the book. The cover was held together with duct tape, the pages were yellowed and faded, and Jason's distinct handwriting had scrawled across the front. “Mary Shelley's Frankenstein . . . talk about your light reading, kiddo,” Will snarked, running his thumb carefully along the top of the pages. Making a mental note about finding a better **intact** copy for the boy's birthday, he laid the book down gently so as not to damage it further. Then, in search of the circus' single phone, he jumped from the rail-car and headed towards Dedushka's office; he had a few calls to make. 

*****************************

The next day, Marina watched as Will wandered through the motions. He had been recruited to go through the accounts, just as he had always done before he'd enlisted. Every time Marina would pass the tiny office, she'd hear her boyfriend cursing a blue streak inside the room. Unable to resist chuckling, she'd swap out the plates he left for the food she'd bring and disappear again. 

Owen had taken over one of Barney's chores; as usual, the 18 year old had disappeared and someone had to do it. The two younger boys and Jason were at school, and Marina was sitting with some of the other circus women, mending costumes before the big show in Prescott Valley the following month. The Russian was scowling at the sequins on her own costume when she heard her name and jolted, hissing as the needle sank into her thumb instead of the fabric. Shoving the appendage in her mouth, she grumbled around it, “Sorry, I didn't hear you.”

The youngest member of the circle spoke up, “I asked, how's Will?” 

Hot chocolate eyes narrowed as she took in the all too innocent look on the girl's face. 17 year old Karen Coxwell had briefly been one of Barney's girls, before he'd grown bored with her overly sweet and undeniably calculating demeanor. She'd had her eyes on Jason for about a week, but thank God for small favors, Jason preferred not to dally with the circus girls, keeping his flirtations to the girls he met at the schools he attended. Of course, now the eldest Grimm was back . . . and if Marina did say so, the two years with the Army had taken Will's thin beauty and transformed it into a ruggedness handsomeness. He was quite the catch . . . and Karen was determined to sink her hook and reel him in. 

The silence lengthened just this side of uncomfortable, before Marina answered the question. “Healing; he got lucky.”

“He grew up so nice, Marina . . . you must be proud. Fine boy like that? He's gonna make some girl very happy some day,” stated Daphne Coxwell, Karen's mother, her eyes almost glittering brighter than her daughter's at the turn of the conversation. 

“I don't doubt that,” the Russian agreed, a sinking feeling in her gut. “Misha has always done his best to take care of me and his brothers. He's a protector . . . and provider; that will never change.”

“Still, a Captain and so young! I'm surprised he doesn't take the lot of you away from here.”

“He's deployed a lot; this is the only home the boys have ever known. It wouldn't be fair to uproot them, when Misha wouldn't be around all that much anyway.”

“So . . . he got his eye on a wife yet?”

“He's not even 21!” Marina burst out in shock, eyes wide in horror at the very thought.

“So? Younger men than him are happy fathers made.”

“I think that's butchering the quote a bit,” Melinda Carter remarked caustically, eyes narrowed in Daphne's direction. “You listen here, Daphi . . . your girl has made no bones about the fact she'd like to sink her teeth into him. But the Captain is not some slice of beef to nibble on and then throw back on the griddle when she's done with him. So back off, the both of you.”

“It's just talk, Melinda,” Daphne scoffed with a roll of her eyes and an affronted toss of her head. “Marina don't mind . . . do you, sugar?”

“I do mind, actually. Misha is very private, and he doesn't appreciate it when other people treat his personal life like it's their business. I will respect that, as I hope you will too.”

Karen slumped slightly with a pout, before one of the other women spoke up, “You two are very close. Aren't you, Marina?”

“We've been partners for a long time, Maisy. It's hard not to be.”

This time Maisy's twin sister Mary spoke up, a small smile on her face as she teased, “You told him you're in love with him yet?”

At the question, the Russian's head ducked as a blush swept across her face like a wildfire through tinder. The older women around the circle cackled delightfully, amused by the reaction from one of their own. “Oh honey . . . you should tell him.”

Lifting one hand to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear, she agreed, “I'm working on it.”

*******************************

Later than night, Marina dragged the man from the office practically by his hair. “It's dinner time, Mishka, and the hellions have both been asking to see you for hours.”

Will's mouth twisted as he glanced upwards towards the overcast skies. “It looks like it might rain.”

“Probably,” she agreed, a sad smile on her face as she bumped him lightly on the hip. Ever since the sewing circle, she'd felt weird. She knew they were trying to keep their relationship secret, but every instinct she had yearned to reach out and grab his hand . . . to pull his arm around her shoulders and burrow into him. 

To claim him completely, so Karen Coxwell and others like her would know to keep their hands off what was hers. 

“Did Jay make it to his friend Billy's house okay?”

Marina nodded in agreement, chuckling as she considered how excited the teenager had looked when he'd left the rail-car that morning. “He called when he got there. Apparently, it's a physics project and he's very excited about it.”

“Sounds like Jason,” the oldest Grimm laughed, reaching out to take her hand and tuck it into his elbow. 

It was something they'd always done, but now Marina felt self-conscious about it. She yanked herself away, earning a frown and a cocked head from her boyfriend. “What's wrong?”

“I thought we weren't telling the boys.”

“We're not. But if we don't act like we always have, they **are** going to figure it out.”

Taking a deep breath, Marina considered the announcement, before nodding. “You're right. I'm just . . . sometimes I don't know how to act around you now.”

“We act the same way we always did. Holding hands, cuddling at the firepit, hands in elbows . . . everyone in this camp knows we're close, Marina . . . seeing us behave the way we always have isn't going to raise any red flags.” Wrinkling his nose at her, he teased, “I thought you were supposed to be the spy.”

“Eh . . . I'm a little out of practice,” she snarked, rolling her eyes with a grin. Stepping back into him, she looped her hand into his elbow without prompting and snuggled closer, “So . . . did you talk to Howard?”

“He'll be here this weekend. He needed some time to get everything together you asked for. But he's thinking about bringing Maria.”

“What about Anthony?”

“Anthony is at MIT. We don't have to worry about trying to tell that lie.”

“Thank goodness for small favors,” she agreed, letting him guide her to a seat next to the fire. He grinned at her, as he gestured towards the coffee pots sitting off to the side of the main food line. “I'll be right back.”

“I'll be here,” she laughed with a wink, watching him go with a grin. 

By the time he took his seat on the ground in front of her, she was fending off two very excited Grimms. Because of everything, Kenny had been held back a year in school while Clint had skipped a year; as a result, the two were in the same class together at the middle school. “Okay, slow down. I missed that,” she insisted, grinning at Kenny even as she reached without looking for the mug of hot chocolate Will was offering her. 

“They're going to have a talent show at school!” Clint cheered exuberantly, nudging his brother who input, “We wanted to do our trapeze routine for it.”

There was a pause as Marina cocked an eyebrow, before the two begged together, “Can we? Please!?”

“I really don't think a trapeze act is what the school talent show had in mind, _domashniy_.”

Will chuckled as he brought his own mug of coffee to his lips, joking, “I don't know. Could be fun . . . certainly not something you see everyday.”

“Don't encourage them, Misha,” Marina scolded fondly, flicking the back of his head with a fingernail. 

“I'm just saying . . . if they can make it work, why not?”

“A trapeze act takes a lot of space, Misha.”

Those quicksilver eyes were adoring as he reminded her fondly, “Not all of them.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

Well remembering their own trapeze routine, Marina's mouth twisted. Will had been fifteen years old the first time the two of them had gotten onto the bars together. He'd never dropped her . . . not even in practice. Unlike the other trapeze acts the circus boasted, theirs had taken place on a single bar; it had been very much like a dance in midair. They had even made it onto a marquee before Will had enlisted. Though no one had asked, Marina knew there were more than a few members of their circus family who wanted the two to resume the act while Will was on leave. _Babushka i Dedushka_ had adamantly refused to broach the subject; Will had come home injured and deserved all the rest and relaxation being home could offer. 

There was a heavy sigh from Marina, knowing if they could make it work, she would probably cave to their wishes. “First, let's talk to the principal? If it can't be done, there's no point in getting your hopes up.”

Both of the boys cheered excitedly, knocking her backwards out of her seat as they attacked her with hugs and kisses. Unable to fault them for it, Marina just wrapped her arms around them both and held them to her tightly. Finally, she grunted, “Get off me. Your dinners are getting cold. Go on . . . and if you could bring back plates for your brother and me.”

“Sure thing, Marishka,” Clint agreed with a grin, pushing himself to his feet as Kenny did the same on the other side of her. “Be back in a flash!” 

Watching the two bolt away at full speed, she giggled, “Don't doubt it for a second.”

Will leaned over the bench, grinning at her fondly. “You okay down there?”

“Wake me when they turn 18, huh? They're exhausting at this age,” she joked, accepting his hand and the subsequent pull back into her seat. 

Once she was situated back on her bench, she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his shoulders. The young man's hands came up to wrap around her wrists where they crossed at the base of his throat, both clearly lost in their own thoughts. There was a long silence, before the Captain spoke up, “I miss it.”

“Miss what?”

“Being on the bars with you . . . knowing you trusted me not to drop you. I miss it.”

“You came home hurt, Misha. No one is going to ask you to take up our old routine. And I'm sure we're both out of practice.”

“Maybe, but I doubt we're out of shape.”

Cocking her head, she looked down into the side of his face she could see, unsurprised to see him watching her out of the corner of one eye. “What are you saying?”

“Let's get back on the bar tomorrow. Just the two of us. See if we've still got it.”

Hot chocolate eyes watched him for a long moment, before she nodded once in agreement. “All right. Sounds like fun.”

Casting his eyes around the firepit, the eldest Grimm took note of the fact no one was paying attention to them. Twisting a little further, he pressed a momentary peck to her lips, catching her off guard and leaving her unable to respond before he drew away again. “I can't wait.”

“Sneak,” she teased fondly, before looking up as the boys bolted back into the firelight again. The four sat together, with Owen joining them not too long after. Of Barney . . . there was no sign. 

*************************************

Marina came out of the boys' room about an hour later, chuckling at the knowledge that all the excitement had exhausted the two preteens and now both were passed out in their shared bunk. Will sat in the door of the rail-car, still healing leg hanging down outside while the other was tucked up against his chest. In one hand he held a bottle of whiskey; the cap was missing and the Russian could see he'd started drinking without her. Scooping up the cap from the table, she moved to join him and liberated the bottle from his hand. A quick twist of her wrist sealed the bottle, before she rolled it back towards the kitchen as she took a seat in his lap. “Misha . . . what's wrong?”

“I should be dead right now, Marina. And instead I'm here . . . with you . . . getting everything I ever wanted.” His fingers were gentle on her face as he smoothed a curl from her eyelashes. “God, you're beautiful.”

The Russian smiled at him as she leaned into the touch, reminding him lightly, “You're the only one who thinks so.”

“Then clearly the men in this place are stupid, if they can't see how amazing you are.”

Bending to him, the woman cupped his cheeks in her palms and took his mouth with her own. “Come to bed, Misha.”

Quicksilver eyes flashed bright blue for a moment, before settling into a deep blue-gray. “I don't . . . I've never . . . Marishka, I've never been with anyone.”

She smiled, teasing him with languid, easy kisses across his throat as she replied, “I know. It's okay . . . it doesn't matter.”

“I want this to be good for you, Marina. I want this to be perfect.”

“I'm not going to lie to you, Misha; you're not my first. But you will be the first I choose for myself, and that will erase every imperfect second from my memory.” Pushing herself to her feet, she offered him a hand as she insisted, “Misha . . . come to bed.”

The two watched each other for a long minute, before at last Will reached out and took her hand. A strong steady pull to his feet brought him within inches of her, their linked fingers coming up to rest against his chest as his free hand cupped her cheek in his palm. She smiled up at him, eyes slipping closed as he bent to press an exultant kiss to the base of her throat where neck met shoulder. Threading her fingers through close-cropped hair, she dropped her head back to allow him more space. There was a second's pause, before her voice filled the small area, “I love you.”

She could feel the way he smiled against her skin, teeth nipping gently against the skin and leaving a small mark. His reply rumbled through her body as he promised, “I love you . . . so much.”

Threading her fingers back through his hair, she pulled him up to her mouth, capturing his lips with her own and coaxing him into a heady embrace. “Misha . . . take me to bed.”

“Yes ma'am,” was the only response, one hand groping back to grab the door of the rail-car and drag it closed. It slammed with a loud bang, but neither noticed. They were already in each other's arms and there was little more important to either than that. 

Hours later, Marina lay exhausted and replete against her lover, body singing from the glorious rush of endorphins and accompanying bliss. Though it hadn't been entirely smooth sailing, Will was a soldier and as such, very good at following orders; needless to say, she had no complaints. She purred lightly as she burrowed closer to him, relishing the closeness. His heartbeat thundered under her ear, a quicker tempo than she was used to but still achingly familiar to her. Rough but tender palms smoothed over naked skin, callouses catching on long forgotten scars and sending a delicious frisson down her spine. His voice rumbled through them both as he murmured, “Did I hurt you?”

“It's been a long time since I've had someone in my bed. I'll be sore tomorrow, but it's the good kind of sore,” she replied with a grin, tilting her head back to grin at him. Seeing his thoughts rampaging through his eyes, she sighed and rolled on top of him, folding her hands over his chest and resting her chin on them. “Just say it, Misha.”

Those quicksilver eyes were even more mercurial than usual, flashing between vibrant blue and sedate gray, features solemn as they took her in. Finally he spoke, his tone miserable and distant but firm. “The boys have to come first, Marina, always.”

The smile on her face was sad and knowing as she joked, “Oh, is that all? Tell me something I don't know, _moy vozlyublenny_. They are too young right now to lose me.” Here she paused, stretching along his body to nuzzle against his chin so as to take the sting from her next words. “I know where my priorities lie, Mishka.”

“Good,” he sighed, sounding infinitely relieved at the statement. “The boys need you . . . so much more than I do. I wouldn't feel right about us, if it meant I took you from them. Not now . . . not when they need you most.”

“Just because the boys need me more, doesn't mean I'm not here for you too. I may not be able to be right there at your side, but I am always a letter away . . . a phone call apart.” Pushing herself up onto her hands, she scolded fondly, “You don't have to sacrifice **us** for **them**. And I wouldn't let you even if you tried.”

“Marishka . . .” he protested on a whimper, his eyes endlessly adoring as he looked up into her. 

Chocolate curls draped around his face as she leaned over him, fingers whisper soft against his face as she insisted, “I am yours. Today . . . tomorrow . . . forever . . . always. And when the boys are older and they don't need me . . . let's just say there had better be a damned sturdy bed nearby. Because I have no intention of letting you out of it for at least a week, if not longer. _Ponimayete_?”

He grinned at her, teasing, “Copy that.”

“Good.” Rolling her hips, she insisted, “We have hours yet till dawn. May I suggest you make what use of them you can, before tonight becomes only a memory?”

Will groaned at the question, hauling her under him with a quick twist of his hips. “Damn, you're gonna kill me.”

“Promises promises,” she gasped out with a groan as he bit down into the curve of her collarbone, earning a sharp buck of her body and four long gouges as Marina dragged her nails down his back. 

“ _Samaya malen'kaya_ , I have dreamed of this night for three years. I have plans for you . . . long and detailed plans I have spent hours thinking about . . . hammering out the details and making sure every moment would be perfect. It's gonna be a hell of a ride.”

Her grin was radiant as she dragged her fingers through his hair, bringing him down to her. “How bout you put your mouth to work on something other than pretty speeches and prove it, huh, Cap?”

Chuckling, he caught her mouth with his own, one hand coming up to pin both of her wrists to the bed over her head. Bracing himself on his other elbow, he trailed heated kisses along the curve of her throat, murmuring against the skin, “As the lady commands.”

The rest of the night was a whirlwind, and by the time the two lovers finally fell asleep, dawn was only moments away from cresting the horizon. Owen returned from his own amorous pursuits and got the two younger boys up and ready for school. He walked them to the bus, and saw them off, promising over and over again their brother and sister were only tired and they would be there to retrieve them when the bus dropped them off that night. Then he returned to the rail-car and fell into his own bunk; Will and Marina were not the only two who had spent a long night in the arms of a lover. All three of them could use the sleep. 

************************************************

It was about mid-afternoon before the three stirred from their beds. The two men sat together at the tiny table in their even tinier kitchen, sipping on coffee as Marina put together a quick lunch of fruit and griddle cakes. The boys would be arriving home shortly, and both the Captain and his Russian were speculating on the second oldest Grimm brother; no one had seen him for several days now and neither had heard him come the night before either. “I swear, I'm gonna tan his ass,” Will ground out, jaw clenched as he glared fiercely at a point on the table. 

Of course, it was about then Barney sauntered into the rail-car as though he owned the place. The eldest Grimm frowned at the younger brother, glancing towards the clock on the wall, before he turned back to Barney. “Where have you been?”

“Around,” was all the 18 year old said, throwing a dismissive wave in his brother's face as he strode past. 

Vaulting up out of the chair, Will snatched the wrist and yanked him back sharply. “Not an answer. Where have you been?”

“I'm 18 years old now, Will. I don't have to answer to you anymore.”

“Says who?” the Captain asked archly, a single eyebrow cocking upwards as he took in the hickey barely hidden by Barney's collar. “Who is she?”

“None of your business. I don't ask you about your love life . . . stay the fuck out of mine.”

“Watch your mouth,” was the sharp snap from the Russian as she glowered at him. 

“Stay out of this, Marina,” Barney snapped bitterly, glaring at her angrily. 

The glare transformed into shock as Will shoved him hard into the wall, barking, “You do **not** talk to her that way. Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

“It's not like she gives a damn about me anymore. It's all about Jay and Clint and Kenny. I'm 18 . . .”

“Then act like it,” Will snapped viciously. “I put you in charge when I left. I had thought I could count on you to help Marina with the boys, to be a responsible member of this family. And instead, I get home, and you're fucking around . . . slacking off . . . running out on your chores . . . gone for days at a time with no word as to where you've been. What the hell, Barney!?”

“I'm not one of your soldiers, **Captain**. I don't have to tell you shit.”

Owen winced at the way Will suddenly relaxed, body easing into a calm slouch as he cocked an eyebrow. He'd seen that look on his best friend's face more than once when he was preparing to dress down a grunt who'd screwed up. Unless he missed his guess, Will's kid brother was about to get his ass kicked and good. 

There was a calm drawl to the Captain's tone as he asked, “Oh really?”

“Yeah. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, and there isn't anything you can do about it.”

For a long moment, the two brothers stared at each other, before Will hissed, “Let's just see about that.”

In a move too fast for Barney to track, Will had him by the collar of his shirt and bent over at the waist, dragging him towards the door. Marina winced as she watched him grab up the strap hanging on the hook by the door and jump from the car, pulling Barney along with him around the side of the car. Suddenly seeming to realize what was about to happen, Barney began to protest the impending punishment. When that didn't work, he started to spit invectives at his brother, cut off by a loud bang when Will threw him up against the back of the car. 

Having been witness to Will disciplining the boys frequently over the years, Marina could picture the scene well enough. Barney braced up against the wall, with Will's hand on his neck keeping him bent at the waist as he brought the strap down sharply on a jean-clad ass. The two remaining occupants of the car winced as the younger brother suddenly let out a yowl to wake the dead. For a long time, there was only the crack of the belt and the sound of Barney's filthy cussing at the top of his lungs. The swearing only seemed to piss Will off, as the cracks got louder and closer together. It wasn't long before the only sounds coming from the second eldest Grimm was soft whimpering and tiny yelps as the belt continued to connect. 

Finally, everything stopped and the only sounds Marina could hear was Will's heavy breathing and Barney's quiet whimpers. “I'm only gonna say this once, Barney. We have rules in this family . . . rules designed to keep us safe and out of the Army's hands. I don't give a damn if you think just because you're 18 you can do whatever you want; you can't. Your responsibility is to this family, not your dick. Shape up . . . or I can guarantee you we're gonna be out here a lot before I leave. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” was the chagrined response from the chastised young man. 

“And if I ever hear you speak that way to Marina again . . . this will look like a love tap. Got me?”

“Yes.”

“You have chores . . . I suggest you get to them.”

Marina moved to the doorway, watching as Barney all but fled towards the camp, red cheeked and limping. Will came back around the side of the car, his jaw locked tight as he stared after the younger brother. Looking up to see Marina in the doorframe, he asked, “Now can we talk about Barney?”

“At this point, I don't think we have a choice,” she replied with a small smile. “How many did you give him?”

“Twenty-five . . . he'll live. He won't be sitting comfortably for a few days, but maybe it'll straighten him out.” Climbing into the car, he hung the strap up on its hook by the door and moved back to the table; Marina could see his fingers shaking as they reached to pick up his mug. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long has he been speaking to you like that?”

“It's been awhile. I'm not entirely sure Swordsman is the best influence on him.”

“Swordsman? Do we need to talk to him about Barney's attitude?”

“I doubt it would do much good. Trickshot is the only decent one in the partnership, but he's not the one Barney looks up to.”

“Remind me why we let Barney fall in with him?”

“Because we didn't know any better at the time.”

Will grunted at the answer, taking a long drink of his coffee. Draining it, he reached for the pot and topped off again. “I want to know if he speaks to you like that again . . . understood?”

Marina hummed an affirmative, nodding slowly in agreement. “I doubt he'll do that for awhile.”

“He better not do it ever again, or I'll tan his hide into leather.”

Grinning up at him, she went up on tiptoes to press a warm kiss to his cheek. “Come on, Mishka . . . the boys'll be home soon. And then we have a date with the bars.”

“The bars?” Owen asked, looking between the two of them curiously. 

Will groaned as his Russian grinned, promising, “There's a lot you don't know about Misha and me. For starters, we used to perform a duo trapeze act.”

“Used to preform?”

“Marina still does trapeze with Jason, Clint and Kenny; but we had a different kind of trapeze act, just the two of us. We were headliners before I enlisted; we were on marquee posters and billboards and fliers.” Shrugging, Will grinned sheepishly, as he laughed, “It was fun.”

Wrinkling her nose up at her lover, she teased, “We're gonna see if we've even still got what it takes to fly together. It's been a long time since we were on the bars together, but I doubt much will have changed between us.”

“I'm still utterly besotted with her,” Will agreed with a grin, causing Marina to giggle as she replied, “And I still trust him completely. Who knows? Maybe we'll fall ten seconds in.”

Will's arm was warm and familiar around her shoulders as he promised, “I will never drop you.”

Her head dropped back as she beamed up at him, “I know.”

*****************************************

Clint burst from the school bus with a cheer, lunging at Marina with a bright grin. “You're in costume!”

Marina glanced down at the tri-colored green costume she wore and smirked, teasing, “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

“Haha,” he grumbled, glaring at her for all of a second before he began to bounce on his toes once again. “Does that mean you're gonna go practice?”

Twisting to look at Will behind her, she asked innocently, “Were we gonna practice today?”

“I don't know. Were we practicing today?” he asked in reply, mercurial eyes shifting between blue hues as he widened his eyes at her curiously. Both of the youngest boys started to protest at the clear teasing taking place, their high boy's voices overlapping each other as they begged. 

“Wait,” Jason protested, holding up a hand to stall any further teasing, “ **Will** is getting on the bars?”

“I was thinking about it. Is that okay?”

“Yeah! Maybe I'll actually get to do some of the fun stuff, instead of just catch everybody all the time,” the middle Grimm muttered with a groan and a roll of his eyes. 

The Captain cocked an eyebrow up at Marina at the statement, forcing her to sigh. “He's the tallest; with you gone, he's the only one left to catch us.”

“I see,” was the response, eyes narrowed as he took in the barely concealed excitement in the eyes of his three younger brothers. Smirking, he nodded once in unspoken agreement, “I'll catch today.”

“All right!” was the immediate cheer from all three of the brothers, Clint and Kenny practically vibrating as they bounced on their toes. 

Will's voice rose as he insisted over the cacophany, “But after practice, I expect homework to get done. No argument!”

“Yes sir!” was the ready agreement, causing Marina to smirk. “All right. Go get changed into your costumes. You can't practice in your school clothes.”

Immediately, the two were left behind as the three boys fled towards their rail-car. Marina wrapped an arm around his waist as she looked up at him adoringly, “They love you so much.”

“I don't know why,” Will sighed, running one hand back through his hair as he pulled her tighter to him with the other. “I'm almost never home.”

“But when you **are** home, they are your first priorities. Even when you were still recovering, you made time to sit with them; to read bedtime stories to Clint and Kenny . . . to listen when Jason was going off on his new invention. They know you don't have to take time for them, and they adore you because you do.”

“I wish I was around more.” His fingers tightened on her shoulders as they strolled along, “For them . . . and for you.”

“The boys understand why you have to be gone all the time, Misha. They don't resent you for it.”

“Well, **they** might not . . . but I know one of them does.”

Marina took a deep breath in through her nose as she considered the statement, contemplating how best to explain it. “That's not personal. Barney hasn't been right for a long time, Misha. You and I both know that.”

“I know, but doesn't make it any easier to deal with.”

“No, that's true,” she agreed with a sigh as her shoulders slumped. “I don't know how to help him. Whatever happened **there** . . . it's something I can't touch. He won't talk about it. I mean, even Jason tells me about the nightmares he has of what the major did to him, the beatings he took.” Cocking an eyebrow up at her boyfriend, she muttered irritably, “And you don't talk about it, but I know you dream about the base too, what happened to you there. You expend the anger in other ways though; the punching bags, the runs that last for hours . . .but Barney. He just locks it up like it never happened. He lets it fester inside of himself and that rage inside of him just grows as a result. He's not stable, Misha.”

“I can see that.” Pulling her to a stop a few yards away from the car, Will forced her to look up at him. “Would he hurt you? Or the boys? Be honest with me.”

“I want to say no, Misha . . . I want to say no with every fiber of my soul. But the truth is . . .” here she paused, unshed tears forming a sheen across hot chocolate eyes. When she spoke, it was in a heartrending whisper, “I just don't know.”

**********************************************

To say the Brothers Grimm earned a crowd when they arrived under the Big Top was an understatement. The three younger boys took off at a run for the equipment, leaving their brother and sister to follow at a more leisurely pace behind them. Will was concentrating on wrapping his wrists in black athletic tape as he walked, bare feet silent on the padded flooring. The sound of her snickering brought his head up and he cocked an eyebrow at her in question. “What's so funny?”

“You're drawing quite the crowd,” she teased, reaching out to tap her fingernail against the bare skin of his chest. “You grew up hot, Misha . . . and I can guarantee you there are more than a few people here enjoying the view.”

Blushing fiercely, Will ducked his head at the gentle teasing. Bumping his hip against hers, he whispered into her ear, “As long as they know they can look as much as they want, but I'm all yours.”

“Damn right you are,” she laughed with a wink and a grin. “How's the knee?”

Rolling his eyes at the question, he insisted firmly, “Wrapped. I'm fine. Come on . . . let's do this.”

Gesturing towards the rope hanging from the trapeze gear, she giggled, “After you.”

Marina refused to admit it, but their audience was not the only one enjoying the view. Despite the scarred expanse of his chest and back, Will's body was well made and strong. Biceps rippled as he grabbed onto the rope and hauled himself up hand over hand. Refusing to swoon at the sight, even still she couldn't help the small sigh she let out as she watched him climb to the top. 

He grinned down at her once he was perched on the bar Jason typically used in their routines. Made of heavy steel, there were two crossbars attached to the bar which allowed for the catcher to brace his legs to better distribute the sudden weight when he caught the flier. Smirking at him, she teased, “You look comfortable.”

“Kinda like riding a bike,” he laughed, to which Marina scoffed, “I **doubt** this is like riding a bike, Mishka.”

“Spoil sport,” came the teasing retort, just before Clint yelled down at her, “Come on, Marina! Let's practice!”

“I'm coming, _dorogoy_ , be patient!” she called back, with a resigned sigh. 

There was a small part of her snorting at the very idea of her impatient youngest having been designed to be a sniper; and then there was the other part of her well acquainted with how patient he could be, especially when setting up one of his typically intricate pranks. He was young . . . he would learn; she knew better than anyone how much Clint wanted to be like his older brother. If he didn't join the Army as soon as he was old enough, Marina didn't know her boy as well as she thought she did. 

Reaching up for the rope, Marina began to climb towards the flier's platform where Jason, Clint and Kenny were congregated. Jason's hands were warm and sure around her wrists as he grabbed her and steadied her on the short swing over. Grinning at him, she insisted, “ _Spasibo, sladkiy_.”

“ _Dobro pozhalovat'_ ,” he replied, wrapping one arm around her shoulder in a warm hug. 

Will called out then, “All right, Jay first! It's been awhile since he got to do, and I quote, 'the fun stuff'.”

“Awesome!” Jason cheered, punching the air with a wide grin. 

Marina cocked an eyebrow at him, as he moved to the powder bowl, covering his hands and wrists thoroughly with talc to help maintain his grip on the bar. “Kindly remember **it's been awhile**. Nothing fancy . . . let yourself get back into the routine before you throw a triple somersault with a full twist. Okay?”

“Yes ma'am,” he agreed, bending over to press a warm kiss to her cheek before reaching out for the bar. 

The Russian watched Will drop so he was hanging upside down from the bar, forcing his body into wide swings to set himself into motion. Finally, he called out, “Go!”

Immediately, Jason took off, body moving through the air as he swung out. Marina snorted hard as he released the bar and immediately threw himself into a triple somersault, with a full twist. Clint and Kenny both cheered at the sight, causing the Russian to throw her arms up and protest playfully, “Why do I even bother?”

The sound of skin on skin cracked through the air as Will caught Jason by the wrists. The two swung for a moment, before the younger brother twisted away from the grip and flew through the air, hands grabbing on to the bar as it swung back to him. Landing on the platform next to his sister, he gave her a completely unrepentant grin. Fluttering a hand at him, she huffed, “Yeah yeah . . . do whatever you want.”

“Love you, Marishka,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her cheek as Clint moved up to grab the bar next. 

He had already released the bar and was twisting through the air, when Will shouted, “No!”

The ten year old squealed as he dropped into the net below, earning a sigh as Will pulled himself up onto the bar. “Too soon, Clint!”

“Sorry Will!”

“I know you're excited, but you gotta be patient,” Will instructed calmly with a small smile. “I have to be ready to catch you, before you can let go. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“Try it again,” the eldest Grimm insisted, before dropping down once again. There was a pause as he pushed himself back into rhythm, before he called, “Kenny, you're up!”

Marina leaned back against the bar behind her as she watched her three boys enjoy their time with their older brother. Both Kenny and Clint wanted to learn new tricks and the Captain was patient and calm as he talked them through their initial tries. His praise was sincere and warm as he congratulated them on their successful attempts, while at the same time offering constructive criticism when they messed up and landed in the net. Their giggles rang through the Big Top and the Russian saw more than a couple of the acts practicing below them look up with grins at the sound. 

Jason's trust in his older brother was absolute, and as a result, he pushed himself to more and more intricate tricks. Except for the fact Marina knew Will would never let anything happen to any of his brothers – even Barney, though the second oldest Grimm was definitely testing Will's endless patience – she would be concerned about the almost reckless attempts her Jay was pushing on himself. The two Grimms worked together seamlessly, always knowing where the other was. She'd never admit it, but she couldn't help the thought that at least her boyfriend would have a Second he trusted to care for the rest of the family if Barney ever actually bailed on them.

It was hours later when she finally called out, “All right! Time for homework!”

The groans were instantaneous, but to their credit, none of the boys actually protested. One by one, they dropped into the net below. Clint was giggling as he bounced a few times, before throwing himself into a flip off the edge; Marina rolled her eyes fondly as he stuck the landing to roaring cheers from the rest of the circus performers gathered around. Kenny grinned as he grabbed his little brother around the neck, roughing his knuckles over the blond hair to the accompaniment of an indignant squawk, before the older of the two looked up to see Will drop into the net next. “You'll perform with us while you're home . . . won't you, Will?”

Glancing over as Marina dropped into the net beside him, the two seemed to exchange a silent discourse, before Will looked back at his little brother. Grinning, he nodded, “Sure.”

“Awesome!” he agreed, standing still long enough for the eldest Grimm to catch him in a warm hug and press an adoring kiss to the crown of his head, before he took off for their rail-car with Clint and Jason hot on his heels. 

Marina folded her arms over her chest as she teased, “Push over.”

Grinning, the Captain moved to grab the rope hanging from the static bar. “Who do you think I learned it from?”

“Shut up!” she retorted, watching him climb upwards once again. Once he was settled on the bar, he leaned against one of the anchors and cocked an eyebrow at her, “Aren't you coming up?”

She shrugged nonchalantly as she replied, “I'm enjoying the view.”

He huffed at her as he ordered, “Get up here, Petrovka.”

“Copy that!” she laughed, reaching out for the rope and climbing toward him. 

When he locked his ankles around the ropes and dropped upside down, she giggled. They'd done this before and the trick never failed to be a head-turner. Using the rope like a swing, Marina launched upwards and into his arms, both of their hands clasping firmly at the base of each other's necks. After a moment, the Russian let go, stretching her arms out to the side as she dangled from his hands. There was love and trust and adoration in his eyes as he looked down at her, and she could see him getting closer as he began to draw her towards him. They were barely inches apart when he paused, whispering for her ears alone, “I love you.” 

Neither knew that moment would be captured on film . . . a moment their son would see for himself eighteen years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I decided not to show Howard's visit, as there are strong feelings there, on both Will and Stark's part. Howard feels guilty for not doing anything to stop Ross, and Will resents feeling as though he's some kind of pity project, owed anything only because Stark feels guilty. If anyone wants to see the visit, I'll write it, but it'll be very Jason-heavy. Which, to be honest, is not a problem. 
> 
> Translations:
> 
> (R) Nasedka - mother hen  
> (R) Allo - hello  
> (R) sladkiy - honey (Marina's nickname for Jason Grimm)  
> (R) Ponimayete - understood?  
> (R) domashniy - pets (an interchangeable nickname Marina uses for Jason, Clint and Kenny Grimm)  
> (R) Babushka i Dedushka - Grandmother and Grandfather (the proprietors of Carter's Circle, Melinda and Daniel Carter, who all but adopted the Grimms Brothers as their grandchildren.)  
> (R) moy vozlyublenny - my beloved  
> (R) samaya malen'kaya - my little one (Will's most common nickname for Marina Petrovka; this is the first time he's ever used it.)  
> (R) Spasibo - thank you  
> (R) dobro pozhalovat' - you're welcome

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> (R) dorogoy - darling (Marina's nickname for Clint Grimm)  
> (R) solnechnny svet - sunshine (one of Marina's nicknames for Kenny Grimm)  
> (R) solnyshko - sunshine (one of Marina's nicknames for Kenny Grimm)  
> (R) domashniy - pets (an interchangeable nicknames Marina uses for Jason, Kenny and Clint)  
> (R) detka - kiddo (nickname Will only uses for Kenny Grimm)  
> (R) Allo - Hello  
> (R) Misha/Mishka - a diminutive of Michael/Mikhail (Will's middle name is Michael, and Marina is the only one who calls him this.)  
> (R) Nasedka - mother hen (a commonly used tease the boys use for Marina)  
> (R) pravitel - big brother (a name used exclusively for Will, the eldest of the Brothers Grimm)  
> (R) Ponimayete - understood  
> (R) Da/Net - Yes/no  
> (R) Babushka - Grandmother (the term the Grimms use for Melinda Carter, who adopted them as her grandchildren)  
> (R) Baba - shortened form of Babushka  
> (R) Slava Bogu - Thank God  
> (R) Deda - shortened form of Dedushka, which means Grandfather  
> (Latin) te adoro - I adore you (romantic phrasing)  
> (R) smut'yan - troublemaker (Marina's nickname for Barney Grimm)  
> (R) Der'mo - shit  
> (R) Yebat' - fuck


End file.
